


Shawix & Rootix

by for_t2



Category: Astérix le Gaulois | Asterix the Gaul & Related Fandoms, Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comic, Crossover, F/F, Gaul - Freeform, Humor, Roman Empire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 08:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_t2/pseuds/for_t2
Summary: The year is 50 B.C.E. Gaul is entirely occupied by the Romans. Well, not entirely! One small village of indomitable Gauls still holds out against the invaders. And life is not easy for the Roman legionnaires who garrison the fortified camp of Samaritium…





	Shawix & Rootix

**Author's Note:**

> Don't take this too seriously

Short Shawix hides in the bushes of Gaul, silently stalking her prey. The nice plump boar, completely unaware of its impending demise, munches lazily on some grass. Shawix pulls out her little sword. Shifts her weight. Gets ready to pounce, when…

Someone jumps out of the nearby tree and right onto the boar. Hollering at the top of her voice, the person wrestles with the boar, eventually using both of her fists to bring it into submission. 

“Oh for…” Shawix stomps out of the bushes. “That was my catch Rootix. Mine.” 

“Some opportunities are just too good to pass up, sweetie” the taller Gaul beams down proudly at the shorter Shawix.

"There are still--" 

“Don’t worry, I know how much you like the taste of boar,” Rootix answers, tossing over the boar. Samix just catches it as Rootix walks away.

“I really don’t know why I put up with you.” 

Rootix stops. Smirks. “Because you like the taste of my boar?” 

Shawix rolls her eyes as loudly as she can. If anything, that only makes the other Gaul smirk wider. 

“And besides, Sam, without me, what—” 

“Shhh!” 

Shawix gestures for Rootix to shut up. She creeps over to the bushes on the side of the road through the forest. Peers through. 

A file of uniforms marches through the woods. 

Rootix peers over her shoulder. “Is that…?” 

“Greerius Ceaser.” Shawix grabs her partner’s hand. “Come on. We better warn the chief.”

*****

Shawix rushes up to the door of the village chieftan. “We’ve got trouble!” 

“One second!” Comes the muffled reply from inside the hut. 

A second later, the chief’s shieldbearer comes rushing out, the chief himself barely hanging on. “Please keep her steady, Mistereesix!” 

“Sorry, chief,” the tall, surprisingly well-dressed, man whispers back. 

The chief clears his throat. “What’s wrong Misshawix?” 

“Romans. Lots of them. And guess who’s leading them?” 

“Oh, dear.” Finchix and the village have a long history with Greerius and his forces at Samartium, not all of them with happy endings. “Could you please ask the druidess to prepare some magic potion, Missgrovesix?” 

Nobody budges. 

“Chief…” Shawix growls, her voice low, taking a step closer to Rootix. 

The taller woman puts her hand softly on Shawix’s shoulder. “It’s fine, sweetie,” she said, even if her expression didn’t quite match the words. “But I’m not sure I need to ask.” 

The druidess, face hidden beneath robes, was already walking towards them. 

“She has a way of knowing when She’s needed,” Rootix said, gazing fondly at the approaching druidess. 

***** 

The magic potion, recipe known only to the druidess, was the key to the village’s resistance against the Romans. The God Mode it activated was a weapon the that even the best minds of Camp Samaritium hadn’t been able to match. Yet. Finchix’s first mission as village chief had been to go recruite Her, and everyone in the village, especially Rootix, agreed that it was a mission well-done. 

To prepare for the fight against the Romans, the villagers line up one by one to take a sip of the potion. First Fuscix, then Zoix, then… 

“I know it’s you Rootix,” the druidess sighed. Standing in front of her was an obviously costumed Rootix, sporting a fake beard. 

“It’s not Rootix. I’m Berensteinix. Just give me a sip and…” 

The druidess just stared at her.

“Fine!” Rootix tore off the beard and stomped away. 

“Next!” The druidess continue to dole out the magic potion. Shawix. Haperix. Leonix. And… 

“Again?” Rootix was there again, all dressed up in a new costume.

“Surely you recognise me, Turinix!” Rootix proclaimed. “Me! The one—” 

“You know you can’t have any.” 

“Please?” Rootix pleaded. “Just a small sip?” 

“Come on, Rootix,” Shawix said, pulling her partner away from the line. “You know it’s not safe.” Rootix only pouted in response. “I’ll make it up to you later,” Shawix whispered. “Okay?” 

Rootix still pouted, but allowed Shawix to pull her away. For it was true: Rootix could never take any of the magic potion again.   
Years ago, when they were all still kids, she had had shown up to the village gates, an orphan from a distant village who had fought her way across half the Empire to find the magic potion. And she was willing to fight the village too. A fight that ended with her falling face first into an entire cauldron of potion. The druidess then personally intervened to save her life, and, since then, Rootix has become a full member of the village, perhaps peculiar, but respected, in a stable(ish) relationship with Shawix, and with a special connection to the druidess. 

Of course, since then, Rootix had, several times, tried to catch an extra sip of the magic potion. The one time she succeeded produced… interesting results. After that little misadventure, the druidess made sure Rootix never got near the potion again. And after all, it’s not like Rootix needed it. 

And so, Rootix allowed Shawix to drag her over to the group of villagers ready to prevent the next Roman assault. Once all the villagers had gotten their share of the potion, Finchix turned to them.

“The druidess has given me a set of numbers. Coordinates I think. Misshawix, Missgrovesix, Detectfuscix and Mistereesix will scout ahead.   
The rest of us, I think, should create a diversion.” 

“I don’t like this plan,” Reesix grumbled.

“I’ll be fine,” Finchix reassured him. “Now come on, we don’t have much time!”


End file.
